


Tipping the Bull

by Canem



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Corny, I'm Sorry, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canem/pseuds/Canem
Summary: Hi, yes, hello. This is a cursed thing I wrote while high one night. After sitting on it for a while I have decided to share this monstrosity with the world.Overall this was intended to be a joke. Hamming it up was the goal.Like it? Lemme know. I may write more.





	Tipping the Bull

Soft panting stole the silence of the chill, Orgrimmar air. The tauren’s breath was shaky and inconsistent as he instinctively spread his legs wider. He sat, splayed out, on the rocky red ground, propping himself up with both arms. A soft moo would escape his muzzle while a much smaller figure worked tirelessly in his lap. 

“You like that, don’t ya?”, huffed a nasally, male voice as the large, tawny bull nodded hastily in response. Another heavy sigh emanating outwards. 

In the giant’s lap was, of all things, a goblin. The two were hidden away behind The Burning Anvil in the Valley of Honor. The heat of the forges warming their bare bodies. Kalo Broadhorn had arrived in Kalimdor just weeks earlier. He had never had much contact with the majority of the Horde’s races prior to his journey. While troggs were a constant threat in Highmountain... Kalo had never been around a creature so small. He found himself impressed with how tirelessly the Goblin worked on his member. Hugging it tightly and rubbing their body effortlessly against it. The member, fully erect and leaking fluid, was nearly the size of the Goblin himself.

But Goblins, like most of the mortal races know, were ingenious. It didn’t take Cozrik long to figure out how best to pleasure the now squirming Highmountain Tauren. Using his entire body to edge the bull closer and closer. Release on the horizon. As Kalo got nearer, his breaths became heavier. His mooing louder. The Tauren would shift his weight to one arm, reaching forward with the other and grasping Cozrik from behind. Pressing the goblin harder against his rock solid cock. This garnered a chuckle from the smaller form. Cozrik adjusting himself to the added weight.

The bull dug his fingers into the red soil, tensing up with a sharp breath inwards. In turn he gripped the back of the Goblin’s head a little tighter. A muffled ‘ow’ unheard from behind Kalo’s cock as he reared his head backward and let out a shrill moan. Cum shot outward, coating the Goblin’s bare head and back in a smooth, white blanket as the bull released his full load. Kalo’s cock pulsating hard against the lithe form.

After the Tauren had finished, he released his grip, halfway falling back onto the ground. Catching himself with his elbows. He looked forward at Cozrik as his member fell to the side, seeing the tiny creature absolutely drenched in his seed.

“Heh… sorry little guy”, Kalo gasped with a small smirk. Cozrik looked none too pleased with the bull’s amusement in his situation. ‘Maybe the other races aren’t so bad’, Kalo thought to himself as he finally laid all the way back. The warmth of his body quickly being stolen by the bare earth beneath him. If it weren’t for the forges, they’d be freezing. Night in Orgrimmar was terribly cold. He was exhausted and found his eyelids incredibly heavy now. Krathok wouldn’t be too mad if he was late to work the next morning, right? 

Mere moments later, the bull would be fast asleep.

He would awake the next morning with a bit of a start. Snorting loudly as he jolted upwards, rolling to his side. He listlessly scanned the area around him. The overbearing light of the desert sun making it difficult at first to see. No Goblin in sight… huh. 

‘He must have left after I passed out.’

Kalo yawned and forced himself to get up, his nude form making quite the sight if one were privy to his location. Taking a few moments to clean himself and get dressed, the bull lethargically made his way round front to the entrance of the Anvil. On sight he would be met with the full unbridled fury only an old Orc could possess. Apparently, as Kalo had been sleeping out back that night, a weapon meant for Blademaster Ronakada was stolen. It was the Highmountain Tauren’s job to have closed up shop for the evening… And secure that weapon for the ceremony the next day.

Thinking back to what had happened that night, Kalo’s ears lowered as an expression of pure defeat washed over his face. 

“...shit”.


End file.
